All They Wanted For Christmas
by SoOutOfControl
Summary: This is a series of Christmas-oneshots, only slashy, no het. The whole series is rated M to be sure, some of it will be T or even K , but mostly it will be all down and dirty. R&R, pairings at the top of each chapter.
1. Prologue Snape's Greatest Potion

**A/N: **Ooops, we forgot to post the prologue first xD Please don't hate us. Pairings will be written in each chapter so you don't end up reading something you don't like :b Check in often! Remember to comment, don't just favorite, it's annoying as h*ll!

**Disclaimer: **Don't like, don't look, don't own, don't tell, don't hate, don't smell.

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Serverus Snape was a well-known potions master. He always had something brewing, usually something big and complicated, and this time was no exception. He was right now brewing a potion of audacity. He was sick and tired of the stupid, scared students he had, who had no courage, no motive-power, nothing at all, and now he was going to change that.

He was right now in the middle of a class, he had students brewing potions all over and was trying to focus, but Potter and Malfoy was ruining it over and over again, and he ended up making them clean up his stock-room, but now, just the moment where he needed his focus the most, a loud crash was heard from inside the stock-room, and his hand slipped.

"Potter! Malfoy!" he hissed, as he tried to save the potion from slipping out of the kettle.

Just when he thought he'd saved the remains of the potion and started adding something that should have neutralized the effects, Potter bumped into him from behind, and he dropped the powder into the kettle. He felt the vein in his forehead starting to pump, and he grabbed each boy by the neck. "Get. Out. Detention. I'll inform you on where and when. Leave." he hissed, throwing both of them – and the rest of the class out.

He didn't notice the soft golden smoke that had started to spread before it was too late, and he could do nothing to stop it, so he let it spread, and hoped that his students would finally get some spirit. Making them fight for what they wanted – which he most certainly hoped was being good at potions, even though he figured that something else would come out of this too, if he knew his luck well enough.


	2. The Christmas Tree

**Date:** 1st December.

**Title:** The Christmas Tree

**Pairing:** CharlieXRon

**A/N: **Hi ya all! This is an advent-calender written by undersigned and The Unintended Muse (.net/u/1928033/). We would like to thank our lovely beta-reader Discombobulatedperson.

The reason we are posting this now is pretty simple. We wrote it for another site, but they were crappy at reviewing. That meant that we sort of stopped it for a while to punish the bastards. It didn't work though, they're still bastards at reviewing, meaning that we have decided only to post the last 4 chapters here. We hope you'll do better, it's turned into a competition really, because we bet on which site would get us the most reviews – don't disappoint us! We trust you to be better than them!

**A/N 2: **Okay, for those who haven't heard about an advent-calender before, which most of you might have, but not necessarily in this way, it is (in this case, there are several varieties) a series of 25 oneshots. For your sake only, because in Denmark where we come from, we celebrate Christmas the 24th December. Nonetheless we decided to make this, and here you go!

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It had always been a family-tradition at the Weasley's that the youngest and the oldest of the Weasley-children went out to pick up the Christmas tree. This had of course been a problem when Fred and George werethe youngest ones, because those two were quite a handful when you were alone with them.

But that was alright, it had always been Bill's job, so Charlie didn't really mind; and he liked spending time with his youngest brother, so getting the cushy job this year didn't matter much to him –actually he was quite pleased.

Bill was with Ginny now to get Christmas presents, so Charlie and Ron had volunteered to pick up the Christmas tree today, a decision that Charlie certainly didn't regret at all, as he looked at his younger brother – only 16 years old – and absolutely amazing in his own lanky way.

Charlie had always found Ron beautiful, and he was pretty content with this job, so he slung the arm that he wasn't using tocarry his broom with around Ronald's shoulders and hummed softly, making his little brother cock an eyebrow skeptically and grin at him slightly.

"What? How dare you laugh at me? I'm an amazing singer!" he said, chuckling softly.

"Yea, you're just as amazing as Celestina Warbeck," Ron teased, giggling at his own joke. But Charlie just laughed along, truly enjoying being able to smile in his brother's presence. For once, he didn't feel nervous about touching his younger brother, or smiling at him, for now there was no one to give him that eerie look that always made him turn red and get all sweaty. He'd also developed a real bad habit of stumbling and choking whenever anyone would give him that look, which he'd miraculously been able to go without today.

"Why are you even so cheerful today?" Ron pouted slightly, actually wanting to get Charlie back - Ron wasn't the eloquentone in his family, which sometimes bothered him, but he still wanted Charlie to smile none the less.

"Celastina Warbeck has nothing on my voice." Charlie grinned and ruffled Ron's hair. "So, Ron, you've got to pick the tree, I'm just here to do the hard work and drag it home." he teased, dragging his brother closer to him.

"Hahaha, you're so funny." Ron muttered, kicking at some snow. "It's bloody cold out here." he muttered, not minding the least to be dragged closer to Charlie's warm body.

"What's gotten into you, Ronnie? Where's your Christmas spirit?" Charlie asked.

"Long gone," Ron mumbled, as he shivered when Charlie dropped his arms. He didn't know exactly why - or what - but this year, something was different. Something had changed. He was not sure if it was just Charlie, growing bigger and getting older, but every year, he felt smaller. Everyone around him was growing up, and this year, he didn't feel like he was growing with them.

"What's the matter? Is it a girl?" Charlie asked with a smirk on his lips. "Is little Ronnie in love?"

"It's not a girl." Ron hissed, punching Charlie on the arm and stalking off further into the forest. It was way too easy to piss Ron off, and his brothers were masters in this. If it was a sport, they'd have medals hanging all over the house.

"So it's a boy then." Charlie teased, trying to force his heart to stop jumping in his chest as he waited hopefully for the answer, fingers crossed for a yes, just to make his mission the slightest bit easier.

"Just leave me alone, Charlie! I'll bind my scarf around a tree or something, and then you can just chop it down and come home when you're done!" Ron yelled, knowing deep inside that he ought not to take this out on Charlie, but his brother could've just stopped being so God damn handsome! Wait... what?

Handsome? Did he just think that about Charlie? Ron felt his breath quicken as he started to panic, doing his best to breathe evenly, and failing miserable. Oh my... By Merlin's pants, he wasn't only a big fat queer as he'd thought; he was a big fat INCESTUOUSqueer? This was SO weird! It was going to be the worst Christmas ever! … Bad idea to think about pants. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about Charlie's pants. Charlie without pants. Mhmm… No wait! No! Charlie WITH pants, telling him, that he loved him as a brother, and only as a brother.

"Ronnie? Ron? Are you alright?" Charlie asked, worry evident in his voice.

_'Hell, I'm NOT alright!'_ Ron thought, feeling how he was panicking. He thought he could practically feel his heart escaping his chest. But he didn't want to - he didn't want to panic. There was no reason to do so! It was perfectly normal to think about stuff like that! … just not with your big brother! Hadn't every boy on his age wondered ... been just the slightest bit curious...?

_'No, they hadn't!'_ he mentally yelled at himself. Even if they had, they had NEVER thought of their brother like that! It was disgusting, it was wrong...But it was so tempting!

"No, I'm not alright, Charlie! Now, can we get done, and get home? I'm freezing my bloody arse off!" Ron spat, crossing his arms, trying very hard not to look at the other boy. Or man. Charlie was definitely a man.

"Why are you not alright, Ron? Seriously! You were happy when we flew here, and now you're all grumpy? What the bloody hell did I do wrong?" Charlie asked, feeling kind of hurt - almost afraid that Ron had figured out why Charlie enjoyed this time too much. Damn it, he should've kept his hands to himself this morning when he'd "reached over Ron from behind to get to the toast" - yeah right, Charlie Weasley, liar, liar pants on fire! You wanted to rub against his arse!

"If you feel so bad about being near me, maybe I should go back to Romania!" he yelled, suddenly angry with Ron for not wanting him. It wasn't fair! Charlie had waited for SO long for this opportunity to arise, and Ron was just being all childish and sulky when Charlie wanted him to grow up the most.

Ron felt his eyes starting to water, feeling the prickling behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes, and sniffled slightly, telling himself that it was because it was too cold.

"Aaw come on, Ronnie! Don't do this!" Charlie said, looking around nervously, hoping that no one was there, so they could accuse him of molesting his brother or hitting him or something like that.

Ron felt his eyes water even more at the soft tone, and broke down entirely when Charlie put his arms around him.

"Let go of me." he muttered into Charlie's way-too-broad-shoulder.

"I'm not letting go 'til you tell me what the hell is wrong," Charlie demanded. "I hate to see you like this... you know?" Charlie is aware that he is talking into his brothers flaming, red hair, and that he is inhaling the scent of it greedily, but then again; how often did he get moments like this to take advantage of? How often did Ron let him hold him like this?

_'Well_,' Charlie thought, _'maybe there's a reason why you don't ever get to hold him like this! Maybe it's because it's wrong, because you're his older brother and NOT his lover. Brothers don't do this! You're the only one who thinks this isn't strange. You're probably the reason why Ron is acting like this. Idiot.'_

'_Oh thank you so very much internal voice, I love you too.'_

Ron sniffled, and buried himself deeper into Charlie's warm body. It felt so nice. So incredibly safe. But it had to end there. Warm, safe, comforting - STOP. But Ron knew he couldn't stop there.

"There's nothing... wrong!" Ron sniffled again, forcing himself to stop crying. This was embarrassing. He was acting like a child. He was sixteen! Even if he was attracted to Charlie in some way - and fuck, how it made his body burn of shame to think that - it wasn't a reason to cry. Not even if you just wanted to get comforted.

"Ron, I'm serious, I want you to tell me why the hell you're acting like this, what did I do wrong?" he asked, putting two fingers under Ron's chin and tilting his face up, so they could look each other in the eyes."I know you don't want to share your secrets with your big brother, but couldn't you at least give me some kind of hint?" he asked, taking out a big handkerchief that he dried Ron's cheeks with - he told himself that he just didn't want him to get frostbites, but inside himself he knew that he just did it because it was an excuse to touch Ron's cheeks.

"Come on, if you don't want to tell me, at least smile for me, and let's find a tree, I want this Christmas to be nice, don't you dare ruin it, Ronnie." he teased. Ron flinched at that sentence. Yeah, sure as hell he was gonna ruin it if Charlie ever found out about Ron's weird craving for his touch.

"It's not Christmas yet, it's only the 1st of December." he pointed out just to have SOMETHING to say. Charlie smiled; sometimes he was glad that Ron made these sweet comments. He very often needed an excuse to smile whenever his younger brother was around. And the fact that the boy tried to make him smile was only a help.

"Well, you don't have to wait until the 25th to ruin it, Ronnie. You can just start now, and I'll just wait 'til you're done, right?" Ron tried to avoid Charlie's gaze. Mainly because he knew he wouldn't be able to pull away once he'd caught it. Charlie's eyes were so beautiful. So deep - exotic in some way. He could almost sense an entire jungle in those hazel dots. Or maybe he was just imagining it.

"Well, you can just try and ignore me if you have that little faith in my Christmas-spirit." Ron wanted to leave, to lock himself into his bedroom and not come out ever again. He wanted to never have to look into Charlie's gorgeous eyes again, and to hide from the embarrassment until he died. But he also knew he'd never be that lucky. He was a Weasley. If they weren't unlucky, clumsy, or making a fool out of themselves in some other way, THEN there was something wrong with them.

So this was natural for Ron; he couldn't count all the times he'd wanted to bury himself alive. But Charlie and his sexuality had sure never been the reason before. He tried to pull away from the other boy, but failed - Charlie was too strong, and too stubborn. He kept him in an iron-grip, and Ron knew he wouldn't let him go.

"You are going to tell me what your problem is, and you know it. I'm not letting you ruin your own mood, along with everyone else's."

"Fine!" Ron yelled into Charlie's face. "Fine! Do you want to know what it is? You better be sure, Charlie, because you won't like it!" Ron hissed, as he started punching Charlie - something that didn't affect his brother in the slightest, because Charlie was eight years older, stronger, bigger, and Ron was still just a scrawny kid compared to him.

"Can't you at least act like it hurts?" he screamed into Charlie's face, feelings his face getting hotter and hotter in embarrassment. "It's not my fault! I'm just a teenager! How can I help who I like? I didn't even know before right now! STOP BUGGING ME ABOUT IT, OKAY?" Ron yelled as he freed himself from Charlie, punching him one last time before stalking off in between the trees.

"RON! NO! WAIT!" How the hell did that boy manage to screw up Charlie's mind like this? Had he really heard Ron saying this - had Ron really told him what he thought he'd heard him tell him? It couldn't be true. He wasn't that lucky. The world couldn't possibly be THAT great. Or could it? He had to find Ron.

"Ron, no! Wait, god dammit, I'm running in snow! Give me a chance!"

"GO AWAY!"He couldn't believe what he'd said. He'd told Charlie the truth. Why couldn't he just have made up some idiotic lie? Why couldn't he just make Charlie happy so that they could act like normal brothers again? Why, oh, why, did he always have to ruin his own life like this? Why did he have to screw everything up, when he had the chance to freaking fix it? Did he actually WANT to be unhappy?

"Ron, would you please -!"Charlie had caught up with Ron, which was only fair, since Charlie was twice as big as his younger brother. He'd grabbed Ron's jacket roughly, and pulled him backwards.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Ron growled as he stumbled into the white, icy snow. Charlie lost his balance and fell into the snow along with his brother, swearing loudly. They both lay in the coldness and wetness, Charlie starring at Ron, panting. Ron was looking angry, and was forcing his eyes shut. He pressed his lips together for a moment, and then spat out an entire snowball. Charlie burst into a laugh.

"What... the hell... was that?"

"You made me eat snow, you jerk." Ron pouted, though he started to laugh too. It was hard not to laugh when Charlie was laughing – his brother had that affect on people. Stupid people, coming on to his brother like that.

"You could've just closed your big mouth and let me talk to you, then we wouldn't even have been in the snow to start with." Charlie pointed out, smiling softly. "Ronnie, did you just say what I thought you said?" he asked, rolling over slightly, so that his body was looming over Ron's.

"Maybe." Ron muttered, turning his gaze away from Charlie's."So... You like me." Charlie said, trying to resist the urge to tease Ron, because he knew that he'd just get Ron burning in no time, and when his brother exploded, he exploded. In that way Ron really reminded Charlie of their mother. Ugh... their wasn't exactly the person Charlie wanted to think about now.

"Maybe." Ron answered again, narrowing his eyes. "What's it to you?" he hissed, defensive as always.

"It's... pretty nice, actually, then I won't have to feel like I'm molesting you." Charlie said, grinning softly as he saw Ron's eyes widen. Ron hated repeating himself, but all this was just too much to handle. He was out of words - and in his case, that meant mumbling and stumbling until someone else would fill in.

"What ... the hell?" He blinked some icy snowflakes off his eyelashes, and tried to comprehend what his brother was saying. How could this happen? Being unlucky, this was like winning the lottery, only just... better! It was weird to love your brother in that way, to be attracted to him like that. It wasn't something that happened very often, as far as Ron was concerned. So what were the chances, being Ron, that Charlie would love him back? Ever?

He hadn't thought they were big. He'd thought that a chance for a relationship between them didn't even exist. But as it seemed, Charlie felt about him as Ron did about Charlie. Maybe even stronger, since Charlie was much more mature, and probably knew a lot more about love than he did.

"I'm sorry that you had to know like this. But I ... I don't think I'm able to hold this back anymore. I feel too strongly about you."

"I've wanted you for so long, Ronnie, you've always been the cutest brother, always been so damn attractive, you... Have you ever done... anything... before?" he asked, twitching slightly when it occurred to him, that if he kept up this pace, he might end up taking Ron's virginity, and that Ron would - if Charlie knew his brother well enough, and he told himself that he did - probably put way more meaning into that fact than Charlie wanted him to.

"Uhm, Ron... You're not in love with me or anything, right?" he asked nervously, staring Ron in the eyes. He didn't want to scare Ron off, but he didn't want to hurt him either. "Uhm... please tell me now, if you're in love with me or something like that." he grinned nervously, not knowing what to say.

"I… I'm not, I don't think so at least, I just… thought this morning, when you… uhm. I felt something, and I felt kinda weird about it, until I figured that it was weird in a good way. Or… something like that… kinda… whatever." Ron muttered, blushing, and hoping that Charlie would fill in the words he couldn't mutter – he usually did.

"I understand, you haven't been with anyone before, isn't that right?" Charlie asked, itching to kiss Ron, just because he looked so adorably confused.

"No." Ron answered, turning his head away, because he found it embarrassing, he didn't doubt Charlie's experience at all – after all, he was the captain of the Quidditch-team when he was at Hogwarts, and Ron didn't doubt the number of female – and maybe male too? – acquaintances his brother had had. He felt his cheeks burn red with jealousy of those people that he didn't even know the faces of.

Charlie couldn't help but smile, as he took Ron's face between his hands and turned it, so that he could look him in the eyes.

"I don't mind, we'll just take it slow, we should get you out of the snow so you don't get sick." He said softly.

"I won't get sick, I like to lie here." Ron argued, not wanting Charlie to let go of him, because he was afraid that he'd leave him alone. Irrational much? Yes. A lot.

He had snow down his neck, and he shivered slightly, as his clothes was starting to get really soaked from the melting snow, but he was comfortable here, and he didn't want to move for anything in the world.

"Please stand up at least, Ronnie, I don't want you to get sick." Charlie argued with a smile on his face, dragging Ron up, so that they were standing against a tree. He brushed Ron's clothes off from the snow and planted a chaste kiss on his lips, stroking his jaw softly, as he started deepening the kiss and starting to lick his way inside softly.

"Just do what I do, Ronnie." He said, as his fingers started to wander down Ron's body, making him shiver when they slipped in under his clothes."O-Okay." He forced out, hesitatingly slipping his hands into Charlie's hair, pulling at it softly in a way to try to get Charlie and his body-heat closer.

Charlie smirked slightly to himself and rubbed against his brother softly, as he caressed his abdomen, marveling at the soft skin that was hinted slightly by the ripples of muscles. His tongue caressed Ron's softly, and he slipped his hand from his abdomen and down his pants, making Ron shiver, when the cold hand cupped him through his boxer-briefs.

"Charlie." Ron whispered, mirroring Charlie's actions, as a cold, slightly smaller hand, slipped into Charlie's jeans and hesitatingly started grazing his fingers up and down his cock.

Charlie let go of his lips softly, as he started to lick his way from Ron's mouth and down his neck, softly starting to stroke his baby brother into full hardness.

"Shh, just enjoy it, Ronnie." He said, as he squeezed Ron slightly, running his tongue up his neck and slipping it into his ear, slowly teasing his brother until he managed to erupt a moan from his lips, as he started to lower them to lie on the ground again.

"Charlie, I'm not sure I can hold back very long…" Ron coughed out, as he was close to swallowing his own words when Charlie thumbed the tip of his cock, smearing pre-come all over the head, and pulling down softly at the same time, twisting his hand slightly.

Now Ron was sure; Charlie HAD done this before, no doubt there.

"It's okay you can come whenever you want." Charlie allowed softly, arching against Ron's touch as his brother mirrored his movements, making him squirm slightly and buck his hips closer. Ron did exactly the same thing under him and gave in shortlyafter, closing his eyes and biting his lower lip in his try to swallow the whimper that left his lips, something in which he failed.

Charlie lay there for a while, just watching his brother's face and stroking him through his orgasm softly, before Ron sunk down in the snow again and opened his eyes, looking up at Charlie who was biting his lower lip in his attemptto not point out to Ron, that he was horny as hell and still hadn't come, because Ron had lost focus.

Ron seemed to get the message through his eyes though, and he started to move his hand again, squeezing Charlie softly and kissing him again, chastely, softly and totally innocent, and that did it for Charlie, he arched into Ron's touch and came into his hand, moaning his name softly as he hugged Ron close to him.

About a quarter of an hour went by… and then Charlie sat up, smiling as he brushed the pile of snow that had just fallen down from one of the branches away from Ron's face, laughing as his brother spat out even more snow.

"We should go home, what do you say we choose this tree?" he asked, smirking when Ron blushed and nodded.

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading, review if you liked! :D And if you didn't. Just review.


	3. Doofus Getting Drunk

**Date:** 2nd December

**Title:** Doofus Getting Drunk

**Pairing:** LeeXPercy

**A/N: **Still written by me and The Unintended Muse. We still love Discombobulatedperson for beta-reading.

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"Mr. Jordan, this is highly inappropriate! You know perfectly well that students are not allowed to consume alcohol during their stay at the school, especially not on school grounds! You're violating the rules, and you set a bad example to the younger students. Young Mr. Creevey just told me-" a voice scolded.

Lee stopped listening at that time; he knew it was Percy Weasley, and he'd made Colin Creevey tell on him on purpose. He took another swig of the fire-whiskey. In the beginning it'd just been to annoy Percy.

He'd planned to provoke Fred and George's annoyingly perfect big brother, and he'd really planned to run off and have his fun by getting the redhead up from his bed and all sulky, but when Colin had run off, Lee had been thinking, and he'd decided – against better judgment some would say – that he'd stay in the comfortable couch just to annoy the shit out of Percy.

And get him drunk.

And hopefully get laid afterwards.

"I know, that's why I didn't start a party. I knew you'd be a bore and stop it. Rather drink alone than not at all, eh sailor?" he grinned, using the pirate-accent because he knew it'd annoy Percy. And he was right, the older boy's head started to light up in a color as bright as his hair.

Ah, the logic of drunk people.

"Uhm… yeah." Percy said, hesitation evident in his eyes. If he told on Lee, he'd get kicked out, and Fred and George – and the rest of the Quidditch-enthusiasts inthe school – would never forgive him, but Percy had a lot of principles and morals, and he liked rules, and by not stopping this, he was indirectly breaking the rules himself – in other words; Percy was screwed.

"Just put it away, Jordan, then we'll pretend it never happened." He muttered grumpily. He hated to compromise his principles.

"And what if I don't?" Lee answered cheekily.

"Then I'll have to punish you." Percy said, the quivering lips destroying his bluff – of course he wouldn't punish Lee – how exactly should he even do it? If he turned him in, everyone would hate him, and Percy certainly couldn't perform corporal punishment, if he did, he'd be exceeding his authority as a prefect with several degrees.

"Oh is that so?" Lee asked cheekily, "And how will you do that?" he asked, batting his eyelashes in mock-flirting.

"I… Jordan, this is your last chance! I'm serious!" Percy warned, desperation creeping into his voice.

"I am too. I want to know how you'll punish me, maybe I want you to. Do tell." Lee mocked.

Percy felt his face turn bright red – Lee wasn't suggesting what Percy thought he was, was he?

"Jordan, I won't ask you nicely again, put the fire-whiskey away and go to your dorm."

Lee looked at him with a big smile on his face, "I don't think I can."

"What? Of course you can!"

"No, I can't. Not until you've had a drink with me."

Percy scowled. "That's ridiculous! I will not!" the annoyance was starting to become clearer in his voice.

Lee smirked, a plan was forming in his head, he'd get Percy to drink with him for sure with this comment.

"Come on! Or I'll tell professor McGonagall that you were the one who got me this, and you know how the old hag loves me!" he grinned.

Percy felt his earlier red face go white. He knew that McGonagall didn't like Lee all that much, but he couldn't have spots on his reputation – true or false didn't matter to gossip! – so he sat down and took a swig of the whiskey – and another one when Lee motioned for him to do so.

Lee grinned happily. "Better, a lot better!" he said.

"I like you, Lee. I like you a lot." Percy slurred, hugging himself into Lee's chest as the other guy put him into bed. Said person had concluded that Percy was way too drunk to have sex with, so he'd dragged him up to the bed, while trying not to stumble, and really – Percy was like an octopus.

"I like you too, Percy, lay still, I have to get you out of those clothes, you'll strangle yourself in your sleep if we don't get your tie off you." Lee pointed out, enjoying to be the smart one of them – maybe because he was used to drinking (more than Percy at least) and Percy was smashed – seriously, the guy was drunk out of his mind.

Percy tried to stand up but failed miserably so he fell over slightly, lying halfway on his bed, halfway on the floor.

"You're just trying to get me out of my clothes, you crook!" Percy slurred, "But I'm not that kind of girl" he argued, trying to get up, but failing again, so he ended up spread outout on the bed.

This comment sent Lee into hysterics of laughter, and Percy started laughing with him without moving his face away from the bed, so it came out as a muffled, shrieking whining.

"You know, Lee, I want you to try to get me out of my clothes. I'd like that a lot." He muttered.

"Oh well then, what would you like me to do after I've taken your clothes off?" Lee asked as he slid a hand down Percy's pants and cupped him softly through his boxer-briefs.

Percy shivered slightly and pressed back against Lee. "I'd like you to… to… uhm… I… Uuuh…" he trailed off, partly because he didn't want to say exactly what he wanted Lee to do, partly because Lee's hand was right now snaking inside his briefs, making his brain shut down totally.

"Come on, Percy, tell me… What do you want me to do to you?" Lee whispered teasingly as he leaned over him and slipped his tongue into his ear.

"Anything… everything. Just please don't stop." Percy whispered into the pillow, raising his head slightly in his try to be just a little understandable.

Lee smirked – thank you so much alcohol! – and pulled his pants and boxers down to his knees and bent him over the bed.

"Accio lube." He muttered, hoarse with excitement, while catching the tube with his free hand. He groaned happily, while he withdrew his hand – something that erupted a pitiful whine of protest from Percy that almost send him into another laughing-fit - and started lubing up his fingers.

"Easy now, we'll get to that again soon enough." Lee grinned, wrapping his fingers around his own member, lubing himself up before squirting a generous glob of lube on his fingers and starting to stroke Percy softly again with his free hand.

"Relax, this might sting a bit in the beginning, but I promise it'll be good in a while, the sting will be over faster if you relax." He soothed, licking the shell of Percy's ear while starting to press his fingers softly against his opening, pumping his cock all the while to distract him from the sting.

"Merlin! Lee!" Percy whimpered, arching back against him and gasping when he felt Lee's hard member press against his back-thigh."Try to relax." Lee coaxed softly, adding another finger and flexing them to prep Percy further, smirking to himself as Percy started babbling away. He knew he'd hit that special spot when the Head Boy started to beg him to "hurry the fuck up and take him NOW" – words he'd never thought he should hear from Fred and George's boring brother. Or… not so boring, apparently.

"You sure you're ready?" he asked, receiving a hard glare, a nod, and a hard order, which he happily obeyed.

He started to push himself into Percy slowly; holding on to his hips in a soft grip to make sure he didn't move too rapidly and end up hurting himself.

"Please relax a bit, Percy, you're making this hard." He grunted, doing his best not to just pound mindlessly into the redhead – as much as he wanted to, he didn't want to hurt Percy.

After a small while Percy started to whimper and press back slightly, and Lee relished the moment, having a perfect picture in his mind of exactly what they were doing; Percy bentover the bed with his half-buttoned shirt flowing around the freckled torso, trousers halfway down his legs and with a pleading look on his face; half-closed eyes, clutching the sheets between his fingers in his attempt to hold on to just a hint of self-control.

Lee held on for dear life as he started moving into the older boy, his face was screwed with pleasure as he felt the tight warmth clench around him with every thrust, as he pounded harder and harder, savoring every sound Percy made.

"Please Lee, touch me… touch me there." Percy begged mindlessly, as he took Lee's hand and lead it to his own crotch, whimpering slightly as Lee wrapped his fingers around Percy's cock expertly starting to pump it in a simple rhythm; up, down, twist, thumb – up, squeeze, down, twist.

Percy felt himself being pushed further and further towards the edge until the older boy came in a big mess over Lee's fingers and his own bed.

The clenching around his cock outdid Lee, making him see white-hot bursts of light behind his eyelids, coming hard as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out a loud moan.

"I love you Lee."

"Yeah, sure, you'll hate me tomorrow."

- And Percy did.


	4. Taking One For The Team

Date: 3rd December

Title: Taking One For The Team

Pairing: MarcusxDraco

A/N: This one is slightly AU – you'll notice the differences, though. Nothing major is changed, but some facts were altered to fit into our story. We still love DiscombulatedPerson! :D 3

The Quidditch tryouts were always a big event on Hogwarts – especially at the two leading teams, Gryffindor and Slytherin. The Slytherin captains had been using the same strategies for ages, and they always knew who they wanted on their team – they'd chosen the same players every year, knowing that they were the only good ones in the house.

They also knew that every year, ten or twelve morons would show up and demand to be put on the team. Marcus knew very well how to handle them – every student under the fifth year was terrified of him and his friends, much to his fortune.

This year, however, he'd had a hard time choosing – especially the seeker.

Because, no matter how much he would've liked not to, Marcus Flint had a thing for blondes. And Draco Malfoy was just about as blonde as you could possibly get.

One afternoon, Marcus had almost picked the entire team out – no positions had yet been changed, and it didn't come as a surprise to any one of the newbies – he'd only failed to find a seeker.

About fourteen people had signed up for this, which caused Marcus to be in an utterly bad mood. He'd already turned down several young, untalented kids, who did nothing but irritate him and make him want to smash their brains out with the beater's bat – and now it was Draco Malfoy's turn.

Draco had been on the team before, but in his third year, the previous captain had thrown him off. It had irritated Marcus, and he'd decided he'd put him right back on the team if he became captain. The only problem was the fact that Draco was far from the most talented seeker, and that most of his success had just been his arrogance and his father's money.

Marcus had really feared this one in particular, since he was one of the only blonde boys in Slytherin – not to mention the entire school – and had his own charming way of being mind-numbingly arrogant. Until now, Marcus had tried to ignore all these facts, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the younger boy when he was speeding through the air like a goddamn angel on a broomstick.

"Well done, Draco!" He yelled enthusiastically, when the boy caught the snitch for the seventh time. Truth to be, you only had to catch it five times before you were sure to pass, but Marcus enjoyed watching this candidate so much, he'd decided not to tell him. He wondered secretly if he should just let him go on like this all day – but that'd be horribly unfair to the pretty boy, right now doing something that looked like acrobatics, in the air. Was he trying to impress Marcus?

Marcus thought that wouldn't be such a bad thing after all, since he couldn't tear his eyes away from Draco, he might as well watch something that looked good.

And, oh, how good it looked – it looked too freaking good! He wouldn't admit it, but being with a Quidditch-player was one of his secret little fantasies. But, much to Marcus' disappointment, they all seemed straight. Marcus couldn't count all the times he'd tried to convince himself they could be gay, but he never found more than one or two arguments. And he, somehow, always ended up telling himself: Hell, they all think YOU are straight! After some time, he'd just given up arguing with his other self. It was too tiresome. And then the endless circle of self-hate and helpless crushes continued into eternity.

And now, it seemed, it was Draco Malfoy's turn to be the subject of Marcus' adoration and fantasies. He wondered what Draco would do if anyone ever found out. Probably freak out like the little homophobe he was raised to be.

When Draco almost fell of his broom, he seemed to have decided to come back down to earth. Marcus was in a loud fight with his better self in his head, and barely noticed, his eyes focused on the sky above him. It was blue… he hoped. He hadn't really noticed, too occupied with starring at Draco's arse.

_'My mistake,'_ he thought, smirking, as Draco walked towards him with a wide smile on his pale face. His cheeks were red, and his beautiful, blonde hair tousled in a way too sexy way.

_'Focus, dammit, focus!'_ Marcus mentally yelled at himself. It was very hard with pale, blonde people around (or maybe just one pale, blonde person in particular) and Draco's smile was extraordinarily mesmerizing today – it was very hard to ignore something of that significance.

"So, how did I do? Did I make it to the team?" Marcus smiled, and wasn't sure how cold and indifferent he looked. He almost had forgotten that he'd promised himself to be the tough captain this year.

"Wow, wow! Slow down, Blondie. I'm not even through all the candidates yet – something better might show up, you know. But, uh, right now, things are looking pretty good for you. I'll definitely have you in my mind when I pick out the seeker."

Marcus knew that he was smiling widely, and he also knew that whenever his and Draco's eyes met, he flushed red, but he found it so hard to control himself in the presence of Draco that he almost didn't care. And in the back of his head, he was developing very bad ideas of things that might happen if he put Draco on the team. Who knew what could happen if they were alone in the locker room? Who knew what they could do if they were drunk and celebrating a triumph, filled with euphoria of the victory? There were so many possibilities and Marcus contained so little morals.

This wasn't going to end well – there were too many pros, and a too small part of him who'd ever consider the cons. His better self, the one with just the slightest moral fiber, was losing to the one who had a total lack of the same. He just liked the idea of fucking Draco way too much.

"And there's nothing I could do to – uh – improve my chances of getting on the team this year?" Marcus smirked, getting very bad ideas again. Oh yes, there was many things he could do – too many things. And Marcus had only started fantasizing. If he really got into it, he could find so many ways…

_'Stop it!'_ he corrected himself. _'You're not gonna use him like that –'_ God, that sounded tempting! _'It's not his fault that he's so extremely gorgeous! LEAVE HIM A-FUCKING-LONE!'_

"Well – uh – you could always… you know… bring me … beers … and stuff…" Marcus was stuttering, and he knew that Draco noticed. With the images in Marcus' head right now, it was a good thing the Quidditch outfits were so solidly made. There were some things he did not want Draco to know by this time.

"Bring you beer?" Draco grinned. "You don't want me to do your homework or something?"

Marcus grinned loudly, and then sent the boy a somewhat warm smile.

"Baby, you're way too stupid to do my homework. You wouldn't last a day – and neither would your chances of getting on the team!"

Holy Shit! Had he just called Draco 'baby'? He'd got to have heard wrong…Draco smirked at him.

"Flint, did you just call me baby?"

"Maybe I did," Marcus said, stuttering the slightest, but overall happy with the seductiveness in his voice. "Or maybe you mistook it for something else."

Draco blinked, not sure what Marcus was doing. Did he realize that the older boy was attempting to flirt with him? Marcus hoped not. This was so shitty - he thought he was going to kill himself. But, however, it seemed to work. Draco was flushing slightly, his pretty cheeks turning all red in the prettiest way Marcus could ever imagine. His heart was fluttering like a hummingbird. He'd made Draco Malfoy flush!

"I think… I think I heard right." Oh God – was Draco trying to flirt back, or had Marcus just, very simply, lost his mind? "But maybe you should repeat, just so I can be sure. Won't you?"

This was so cute, Marcus wanted to record it or something: Draco Malfoy was flirting with him. And it was in a very adorable, but very, very disastrous way.

"Well, if you really want me to… baby."

Marcus sank a lump. Fuck, this was so bad. How cheesy could you possibly get? It was so horrible, it became hilarious. Was he being watched? Was someone listening to this? He hoped not – this was so embarrassing. However, he quickly scanned the field to make sure no one was around to see this hideous case of flirting.

Draco was moving closer to him, his pace really slowly – was he trying to tease Marcus? Because – fuck – if he was, it was working. This was so weird. And with Draco moving closer a seductive smile forming on his thin, pink lips, Marcus could feel his desire for the boy growing. And growing. And growing even larger.

"But if you want a nickname, I know so many others that are… a lot… better."

Shit. With those words, Draco had practically thrown himself at Marcus. It actually hurt a little when he, in an almost animalistic way, bit Marcus' lip. But the feeling that rushed through his body at the same time could be described very easily. It was wonderful. He'd actually never expected, although it really didn't come as such a big surprise that Draco was an amazing kisser.

His lips were so soft, like silk against Marcus' own lips, and he had this childish, naïve way of moving that made disturbed butterflies attack Marcus' stomach.

But he was impatient, having waited for this for months. And as soon as Draco seemed to be enjoying the kiss, Marcus tried to get access to the blonde's mouth. He got it very easily, letting a moan escape into Draco at the sensation of his hot breath in the icy cold that surrounded them outside on the court.

He moved his hand around Draco's neck, doing something he'd wanted to do so badly for ages. Tousling the younger boy's blonde hair furiously, he continued to explore the warm cave that was his mouth. His tongue seemed to act out of its own free will, and the rest of his body enjoyed that very, very much. And then, without giving Draco any hint of warning, he forced himself to break the kiss, readjusting his hands, moving them lower and lower, until the blonde made a spasm.

Marcus rested his head on Draco's shoulder, whispering softly into his ear.

"How badly do you want to make it onto the team…?" Squeeze. Jolt. "How much do you …desire… to seek for this team?" Another squeeze, now causing Draco to moan unwillingly into Marcus' left ear. He knew he couldn't wait much longer.

Draco kissed Marcus on the cheek, searching for his lips with his own. Marcus thought he'd stop breathing any minute.

"I'd do… anything…" Well, fuck. Why did he have to say that?

"Anything?" Marcus caught Draco's lips, sucking eagerly on the lower one. It was one of those rare moments where you actually believed you were in heaven. It almost always ended up with something better coming along to replace that feeling. This time, Marcus hoped he knew what was coming – and WHO would come. (A/N: Sorry, I HAD to make that joke! XD)

Draco tried to catch Marcus' tongue, but gave up, broke the kiss and decided to suck on his neck instead – which convinced Marcus that "anything" was pretty much covering it. At least a part of it. Did Draco know what Marcus intended to?

Fuck! Oh yes, he did. So Marcus could just as well play along – and since Draco didn't seem to mind the touching, continue with that.

"Anything!" They were breathing heavily when they entered the locker room, and Marcus thought it was all a bit awkward too. But he knew what he wanted, and Draco had given him a taste of the sweetest poison ever – he had to go through with this. You couldn't go this far, and then turn around and leave.

'_Fuck,'_ Marcus thought, as he watched Draco undress – and not just in the rushing kind of way you do after training, no. In a teasing, slow way, that reminded Marcus so much of stripping. Was there anything Draco couldn't do?

"You like it?" Draco asked, as he pulled his coat off with a wide smirk on his pretty face. Marcus could feel his erection growing with the sight of an almost-naked, stripping, Draco.

"Like it? No, you're not my type at all." Marcus said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Indeed I do." He corrected, a smirk covering his face.

Draco had dropped his cloak and his knee and elbow pads; he'd slowly removed his shirt, and was standing in only pants and boots – until he began to take those off too.

Marcus' body was shivering of pure anticipation, and even though it was hard, he tore his eyes off Draco for the split of a second to take a quick glance at the shower. He bit his lower lip. Fuck, this was so tempting.

He began to undress himself when he'd laid his eyes on Draco again. He had stopped removing his pants, and was now wearing a very thick smirk. He was playing with a lock of blonde hair, tousling his beautiful mane.

"Care for a shower?" he asked, stepping out of his pants, revealing a very erect cock, pointing shamelessly against the thin fabric of his underwear. Marcus thought he was asphyxiating.

"You have no idea," Marcus panted, hurrying out of his clothes, which now seemed like a prison for his body. Every cell of him was bursting with excitement. This was really happening, wasn't it? If it wasn't, it had got to be one of his most realistic dreams so far. And Marcus had had a damn lot of these dreams!

Draco, only wearing underwear, stepped into the shower and leaned against the cold wall. The running water only raised the level of stress in Marcus' body; he felt as if he was exploding. This was too much of a good thing.

"Mind coming anytime soon? In here that is."

Draco began to run his hands down his own body, "accidentally" stroking his cock once or twice. Marcus knew he meant for him to notice; Draco so certainly knew what he was doing. He'd had no idea that the boy could be that experienced. He was like, what, fifteen? Sixteen?

"I'm only waiting for you… baby." Draco said, breathlessly. Marcus thought he practically jumped out of his own pants on his way to the shower, concentrating not to fall on the way. He, too, still wore his underwear. But it was first when he entered that he realized why, exactly, Draco had done so from the beginning.

"Fuck, you're so sexy, I think the mere feeling of your skin will do it for me," Marcus said, entering the spray along with Draco. And was that a sight, he thought: Draco wasn't wet; he was dripping. And the thin fabric of his pants that separated Marcus from the blonde boy's cock was now almost 100% see-through, all details given away for him.

Marcus slid his hand through Draco's silky hair, wondering what it'd feel like to kiss him, now that their lips were wet, and resisted the temptation of finding out immediately. Instead, he pointed his lips, and caught a drop of water that was rolling down Draco's nose. The boy flushed, and Marcus smiled while he continued to place kisses around Draco's face.

His skin felt so soft beneath Marcus' lips, and he loved the small jolts that he made every time Marcus pulled his hair and forced him closer. Again, he had to restraint himself not to move his own lips onto Draco's, even though he could only imagine the smoothness and pleasure he'd meet there.

"Come on, Flinty. Do it!" Marcus smirked and moved his lips down Draco's jaw-line, reaching his pink, flushed earlobe.

"Do what, now?" He whispered, sucking greedily on the lobe. "Kiss you?"

"Kiss me!" Then, without any kind of warning, Marcus pushed the blonde against the wall and pressed his lips furiously against the other pair. It felt better than he'd imagined.

Draco was shuddering, not knowing what felt the best. He merely figured that all the feelings, Marcus' frenzied lips, the warm water boiling their bodies, and the rock-hard arousal rubbing against his inner thigh, had all teamed up and were trying to push him off the edge. He had to admit, that from the very beginning, he'd been holding on to it desperately, and now he was just seconds from falling.

"You're not backing out, aren't you, Blondie?"

"Why are you asking, are you?" Draco half-groaned, pulling down their soaked underwear. Marcus smirked, wondering how self-assured the boy would be when they got to the real thing: the sex.

_'He might be tough now, but in my eyes, he's just as inexperienced as a five-year-old,' _he thought, changing his mind very abruptly when he felt how hard Draco was_. 'Or maybe not. We'll see about that_.'

He turned the boy over, forcing him to face the dirty, icy wall, kissing every inch reachable on his pale, smooth back. He couldn't resist the urge to let the pink cheeks get a peck as well. And almost as if someone had pushed an alarm-button in his body, every cell in him seemed aware that he was going to do this.

And although it wasn't every part who liked it, Marcus had dropped listening to his reasonable self. He liked the immoral part (the part that tried to convince him just to thrust into Draco right away) way too much.

He teased the boy, rubbing his erection against his entrance a few times, pulling back with a grin when the boy just leaned back, as if he was expecting to be caught by Marcus' strong arms.

"I think not, Blondie!" He shoved Draco back against the wall and leaned in, very aware how very much the boy would be able to feel his hardness, and how much it would kill him that Marcus wouldn't enter him. Of course, he didn't have any hint of how painful it was for Marcus to have to control himself like this.

"You ready? I'm not gonna play soft." Draco bit his lips hard and nodded frantically, trying to push himself back against Marcus – who was, unfortunately, much stronger. Marcus felt Draco's arse in his hand, making sure to squeeze in the right times.

"Hmm," he speculated. "And what should I do now?" The answer to that question was, of course, very obvious to him, but Marcus just couldn't help loving playing with Draco – the boy was like his own, little toy, one he could just tease and mock and fuck whenever he wanted to. And he really had to take advantage of that.

"You... you know what to do!" Draco gasped, making Marcus chuckle, pushing himself against the boy. Draco winched and twitched, and fought to lower his hands to relieve the pressure in his cock. Marcus, however, wouldn't let him, and simply grabbed his wrists tightly.

He thrust lightly into the boy, who moaned piercingly.

"This?" He questioned, biting his lip not to laugh. "You want me to do this?" He thrust into Draco again, this time a little harder, pushing him up against the wall roughly.

"Yes, THAT!" Draco almost screamed. The blonde was panting like he'd run for miles; Marcus couldn't help but smiling. He felt wonderful, knowing that he, and only he, was making Draco feel like this.

"What? Tell me." He thrust into Draco again, allowing himself to do it one more time, feeling how the pressure in his cock grew for each time. This was a game for two. Marcus simply just happened to be making up the rules.

"I –" Draco gasped loudly with another thrust. He almost choked on the words. "I want…"

"What do you want?" Marcus rested his hands on Draco's hips, thrusting hard into the boy, who in a moment of disorientation and pleasure let a squeal escape his swollen, yet still unbearably pretty, lips. Marcus pulled out of him.

"Again!" Draco howled. "Now!"

"What? Come on, baby, tell me!"

The blonde groaned, and then inhaled deeply, before he actually screamed out: "Flint! Fuck me! I want you to fucking fuck me NOW!"

Marcus chuckled (but realized that was no good) when Draco began to swing his arm and wrench his body. He wanted to tell the boy how much he wanted to do that as well, and exactly for how long he'd wanted it.

"You…" Marcus shoved his cock into the blonde's entrance with greater force than ever.

"Could just…" As he did it the second time, his hand searched for Draco's cock, beginning to stroke it furiously when he did.

"Have…" He slammed Draco against the wall with one, last, forceful thrust, causing them both to come hard. Draco spilled himself all over it (not to mention himself and Marcus' hands) and Marcus himself was pleased to feel his juices filling Draco as he was emptied.

"Told me," he gasped at last.

They both sighed heavily, and Draco almost collapsed onto the floor. Marcus didn't speak a word, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"This must be the first time I've ever actually gotten what I wanted," he mused, "this must seriously be my lucky day or something!" Draco smiled as he walked out, and he seemed utterly self-satisfied, even though his legs were still shaky. Apparently, this hadn't been his first time. Marcus caught himself wondering who'd been so damn lucky to steal Blondie's innocence, but thought he better not think like that – he could end up falling in love with the boy.

As Draco walked out, he tried to tell himself that this had just happened because he had a thing for blondes. Which wasn't a lie, of course.

"I'm glad I could take one for the team," he heard the boy shout as he closed the door.

"You have no idea."


	5. Misunderstandings

**Date:** 4th December

**Title:** Misunderstandings

**Pairing:** HarryXRon

**A/N: **Dudes, ya really gotta start commenting soon, or this will get nowhere! This is a _competition _against users at another side – which part of that was hard to understand? (; Reviews are love, and love makes us upload more chapters (;

"Hurry up, Harry, I just locked the door!" Ron crawled back towards the bed, joining Harry behind the curtains, giving the dormitory a last, distrustful glance, before closing them.

"You've got it? You've found it?" Harry sighed, lifting his sheet to reveal the messy pile of muggle magazines. On the only cover visible, a naked, blonde girl was posing in a very questionable position. Ron grinned widely.

"How did you get them in? I thought all this stuff was, like, forbidden!" Harry threw a magazine at the redhead, smirking.

"It is!"

They both giggled, reminding Harry of small girls – which was definitely not what he wanted to think of right now. Instead, he opened the August-special, and whistled appreciatively. Ron was turning the pages in his magazine randomly, from time to time calling out "Wow!" or "Look!"

Harry had promised himself not to glare, but he couldn't help it when his eyes wandered away from the girls in the magazines, and towards something very, very – not – girly.

He wanted to turn his head away, but could feel how the sight of Ron's excitement did so much more for him than any of the nude girls in the August-special ("Fresh with Leather").

Harry flushed when Ron caught him, acting as if he was drooling over a girl named Tabitha. But even though her raw, exotic and animalistic appearance seemed very welcoming and tempting, he was having difficulties with blocking out images of Ron in the same condition as the model.

He knew his cheeks were turning alarmingly red, so he tried to disguise it as a reaction to the magazine. Turning the pages feverishly, he ignored Ron's irritated glance.

"Harry! Mind your own business, will you?" Harry gathered all of his courage when he looked up to discover that Ron was flushing madly too, his ears a burning scarlet, attempting to cover his crotch with another magazine. Maybe this hadn't been the best idea after all, he thought. They definitely hadn't been ready for this. Or maybe Harry had just misunderstood the fact that you didn't do this kind of stuff together.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, burying his face in a new magazine, this one with a candy-theme. That had to distract him in some way, hadn't it? Harry figured it wouldn't work__only moments later, when he caught himself picturing Ron sucking on the lollipop in the same way "Snowy" had. He was finding himself growing larger and larger, and it didn't help that Ron, only a few inches from him, was trying to hide that he was beginning to touch himself. It was only briefly, but it was enough to make Harry feel dizzy and queasy.

Ron flushed again, avoiding Harry's eyes stubbornly. He coughed nervously, covering himself again."Uh, sorry… do you mind?" Harry felt like choking, and there went several seconds before he could build up enough power in his voice to answer. He moved his legs awkwardly underneath him.

"N-no, of course not! Um… suit yourself, r-right?" Fuck, that sounded awful, he thought. Could he sound more edgy?

Ron smiled wryly, making Harry respond in the same way, unwillingly. The sweet thing was that Ron was just as inexperienced, if not more, than Harry. And even though he would never admit it, he wished he was the one to unzip Ron's pants, to touch him and make his entire body jerk in the way it did. But of course he knew he shouldn't even think like that.

Harry pretended not to be looking while Ron pulled his pants down and turned the other way; Harry understood that he would want some privacy, but images he just couldn't ignore were__intruding his brain__and affecting his body in ways they shouldn't. He resisted the urgency of taking over when he could hear Ron moan softly at his own touch. How he wished to be the one making him act like that.

Harry tried very hard to force his eyes down on the porn again, but he was afraid he might lose the feeling Ron had given him. Instead, he closed his eyes, imagining how it would feel to have Ron's lips covering his cock, sucking hungrily and greedily. How it would feel to return the favour, and taste the sweetness of his best friend.

"Fuck," Harry mumbled, as he let his hand stroke the fabric of his pants; his cock was pushing against it, almost trying to force its way out of his pants on it own. He gritted his teeth, knowing that it wouldn't be much longer before he couldn't block out Ron's frequent moans any longer. It was as if his pace was following the rhythm of Harry's hand – or maybe it was the other way around. Every time Ron panted, Harry's entire body almost jumped, and with the grasp he had on his cock, that produced a steady rhythm, and a constant stream of pleasure that jolted through Harry like electricity.

He knew that the mere images in his mind were enough – but he also wanted more.

Ron was "mmh"-ing on the other end of the bed, and Harry decided he couldn't let him come without him. He was too weak to watch, and too horny to stop it all now. There was only one way he could be satisfied."Arrh!" Ron screamed, as Harry attacked him from behind, almost causing them both to fall down onto the floor. Harry smiled when he landed on top of the redhead, feeling his erection pressing against his lower stomach. "What the hell was that? What the fuck are you doing, fuckhead!"

Before Ron could get to yell at him anymore, Harry had pressed his lips against the other boy's. Ron writhed underneath him, trying to escape Harry's iron-grip, but failed miserably. Harry was much stronger than him. He tried to get access to Ron's mouth, licking the outer part of his lips, but Ron just tried to bite him. When Harry tried again, Ron tried to knock him away with his own head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" When Ron kept twitching underneath him, Harry groaned loudly. The sensation of their rock-hard cocks rubbed against each other was almost too much to bear for Harry – why wouldn't Ron give in? Why did he have to torture Harry like this?

Harry sighed, and placed his lips on Ron's left cheek. He was going to try something different.

"Why…" Harry opened Ron's shirt, slowly, placing kisses wherever reachable. "Are…" He sucked gently on the soft skin of Ron's lower stomach, literally feeling how Ron became harder and harder beneath him. He wasn't sure he had any voice left when he opened his eyes to look at Ron's cock (and couldn't help but noticing that it was much bigger than his own).

"Are you resisting?" Harry panted.

He was so sure Ron was going to break when Harry began moving his lips, bit by bit, towards his cock, teasing him evilly. Ron twitched dramatically underneath him, but Harry didn't want to do anything before he was sure Ron wanted him to. But he also had to close his eyes to resist the glorious temptation only inches away from him.

"Come on, Ronnie," he panted, using his tongue to draw small circles around Ron's bellybutton. "You know you want it…" Harry forced himself to move upwards, mainly because he was missing the feeling of Ron's lips – in spite of the fact that Ron still refused to kiss him back.

Ron tried to push him onto the side, but Harry just grabbed his face forcefully, pressing his lips even harder against the redhead's. He wasn't going to give up, no matter how much Ron was denying the pleasure it would cause both of them if he let Harry do what he intended.

"I… only… want you… to mo –" Ron gasped for air, but didn't seem to get what he wanted, when Harry all of the sudden grasped his cock; Ron's entire body almost jumped, and Harry thought that the jumping worked much more effectively than the constant attempts to break free of Harry's grasp – which was much less successful, mainly because Harry had much more strength than Ron, even though neither of them would ever admit it.

Harry was grasping the throbbing, wet member roughly, knowing that he now had Ron's full attention. The redhead's eyes were narrowed with surprise – and perhaps fear? Harry couldn't judge at the minute, his minds too occupied by thinking of all the ways he could torture Ron as much as he had tortured him. How could he do it in a very evil, but yet loveable way – which in the same time would make Ron want him insanely much? _**(Bad Harry! Bad! Practically raping Ron this way. Lol)**_

"Either you can let me, or I'll do it without permission, Ronnie." He began, once again, to move his lips towards the erection. Ron gritted his teeth and clenched his fist.

"Stop it!" He begged, when Harry gave in and kissed the tip of the redhead's cock softly. "Harry, stop… it!" He sighed deeply when Harry closed his lips around the upper shaft, exploring the burning skin with the tip of his tongue. It felt more wonderful than he'd ever dared to imagine. How could Ron not see this? Maybe he can feel it, Harry thought with a smirk. Ron had just developed some sort of spasm in his legs, almost kicking Harry's glasses off at one point. Harry let go of him and exhaled loudly

"Don't you dare to tell me it's not feeling good!" He whined reproachfully. "Because that is one thing you can't deny!" He thought it'd sounded much better in his head than spoken out loud in his choked, weak voice, where it sounded more idiotic than Ron was able to take seriously.

"Harry, what did you smoke today?"

But, even though he wouldn't admit it, Harry could tell he'd liked it. Ron was panting, he was sweating, and his cock looked as if it was gonna burst any minute. Harry would very much like to give it a hand. "I dunno – maybe you could gimme a drag?"

Ron didn't answer him, but simply groaned. Harry thought he wasn't in for the games either – he knew very well what he wanted, and it was lying right beneath him, whimpering and moaning, just waiting for him to release it. And Harry was going to.

"Don't go against the feeling," he whispered, as he kissed Ron softly, heading against the throbbing member between his legs. "Give in, Ron."

He kissed it, successfully sliding the cock into his mouth once again, this time sucking on it in a much quicker pace, feeling how he was pushing Ron rapidly towards the edge. The redhead groaned loudly, as Harry pressed his lips against the hardness, squeezing for only a couple of seconds, then letting go, then pressing, then suddenly curving his tongue playfully around the shaft, before moving his mouth to the tip again, tasting the sweet pre-cum with a smile.

Amazing. Freaking fantastic.

"Fuck!" Ron made a spasm as Harry gasped for air, rolling onto the side. Harry, however, simply attacked him again, no longer holding any restraints – he just grasped the cock and forced it into his mouth again, this time sucking much hungrier and uncontrolled on it. He could almost count the seconds till Ron's come spurted into his mouth, filling his throat like the sweetest sin ever.

It came as shock for Ron, who, without a warning, screamed loudly and threw his head backwards. Harry launched himself at the redhead, searching dizzily for his lips, tracing kisses everywhere reachable until he found what he was looking for.

"Taste," he demanded softly, his voice muffled against the other pair of sore lips, granting access to Ron's mouth with his tongue. "Taste how sweet you are."

Ron groaned, pushing Harry away.

He wasn't really aware of what was happening, but suddenly found himself on his back, Ron on top of him, smirking in a dangerously teasing way. He leaned over to kiss Harry, confusing the other boy even more. "Payback," he grunted. Harry smiled widely and threw himself back against the mattress, closing his eyes, suddenly very aware of the tension building up in his worn out body. Payback. That sounded great – more than great.

Ron kissed him slowly, passionately, lingering at his lips for several seconds, licking Harry's swollen lips, nibbling them until it actually hurt. Harry arched his back, groaning impatiently.

"You said payback!" he pleaded. "Pay me back!"

Ron grinned, moving his lips down Harry's throat, nipping the thin skin playfully, making him twitch beneath the redhead's weight.

Harry was so filled with anticipation, not sure if he should laugh or cry, trying to wrench out of Ron's grasp to give him a helping hand.

"Too slow!" he objected, searching for his cock blindly, the pressure almost unbearable. Then, all of the sudden, Ron jerked Harry's hands away, grasping the cock firmly.

"If you want it fast, Scarface!" he muttered, squeezing it lightly, raising the pace for each time he pushed. Suddenly, Harry was gasping in a matching rhythm to the firm thrusts, biting his lip and pressing his eyelids together hard not to cry out loud. He whined, feeling how Ron's thumbs began to work out miracles, circling around the tip of his erection.

It was such simple movements, but yet Harry had never felt more amazing, more alive. He'd never thought a mere hand job could feel this incredible, so intense and outrageously good.

He gritted his teeth, knowing that a small moan had already escaped his lips, sneaked out as he'd desperately gasped for air to fill his lungs. But it seemed that no matter how much air you filled them with, he just kept gasping and panting.

He was so close, he thought he was going to die when he came.

Harry yelped aimlessly when he spilled himself, covering Ron, the bed, himself and the magazines (which they'd all but forgotten about) in his juices.

Clenching the sheet, he dared to look at Ron, who was sighing with pleasure, and shaking worse than ever. Harry lay back, entirely drained of energy. As he laid, he tried to control his breath, but he was panting loudly, his chest raising and falling drastically.

"Um… that was… hell! That was fucking amazing!" Ron exclaimed, dropping his arms when he lay beside Harry, who didn't really respond. He was in heaven – although heaven used to be lighter, but with the feeling he had in his body, he could just as well be hovering ten kilometers above them.

"Harry, that was… incredible!" Harry nodded, certainly not disagreeing, and still fighting to catch his breath. His body made a sudden jerk when he felt Ron sneaking his hands towards Harry's, his fingers entangling themselves with Harry's.

Why were they holding hands? Only couples held hands like that. They weren't a couple - they were… two people having amazing sex because of their long-time suppressed horniness. Weren't they? Harry peeked at Ron, who just lay smiling, as if nothing was wrong.

Harry felt as if he'd just had a turn on an erotic rollercoaster; now he was back on earth, and he actually felt a bit nauseated. Was he having second thoughts? Impossible. It had been so fucking, unbelievably amazing. How could he ever regret it? How could he ever dream of not wanting it again?

"Are you alright?" Ron asked, glaring at Harry's troubled face. Before he could get to answer, someone knocked on the door. Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he rolled out of the bed, not even caring that he hit his arm painfully.

"Hide!" He hissed, throwing himself towards his bed, carrying a pile of his ditched clothes, closing the curtains without hesitation.

"It's locked," Harry could hear Dean complain. "Why the hell's it locked?"

"I don't know, maybe someone's in there. You think they're fucking?" Seamus questioned. Ron and Harry could hear them both giggle.

"Poofs," Harry muttered under his breath, taking it back, recalling what he'd just been doing – recalling why he was hiding.

"I'm running to the bathroom, they'll think I've just showered. I'll … uh… clean it all up afterwards." Harry could practically feel Ron flush when the redhead left the dormitory to act like he was showering.

Meanwhile, Dean was performing an alohomora-charm to unlock the door.

Harry didn't realize until now what a mess he was.

Shit, he was covered in his own fluid! He was sticky, and filthy, and had just had the most fucking fantastic sex with his best friend. Ugh. Things were by definition NOT looking good. He'd totally lose his reputation if anyone found out about this. Who'd care about "The boy who lived" if he was fucking the senses out of boys? Who'd ever respect him if he just thought he was some sort of queer, ass-humping moron? "Okay, the door was locked, but no one was in here?" Seamus said skeptically. Harry gritted his teeth; of course someone would find out. Why, oh why, hadn't they thought of that?

"I'm in the bathroom, guys!" Ron shouted. "I locked the door because this one doesn't work."

Harry sighed, leaning back, resting his head on his pillow. It'd been great, but had it been worth all this trouble? Was it worth having to hide it for the rest of his life?

Maybe, sometimes, you were ought not to just follow your impulses. But, of course, he could always blame it on his hormones.


	6. Maybe You Should Take a Bath

Date: 5th December

Title: Maybe You Should Take A Bath

Pairing: CedricXHarry

A/N: This one is AU as well – as you may notice, Cedric is still very much alive! And although some of their ages don't fit, it's not what this fic is centered about. Nope, guys, this is only about hot gaysex! A true PWP!

/

Harry did of course remember the time at the tri-wizard tournament where Cedric Diggory had advised him to take a bath. He also remembered secretly hoping that Cedric would show up, but he hadn't understood why at that time. He'd blushed and put his hands over his ears when Moaning Myrtle__had started to describe Cedric's chiseled chest and broad shoulders and… other stuff – in detail. As in… DETAIL.

He did really regret that now. Now he only had his imagination when he wanted to jerk off while thinking about Cedric, and he did that. A lot actually. 'cause Cedric was so handsome that Harry sometimes thought that it might as well be illegal.

He closed his eyes and slid his hand down his torso, moaning softly to himself as he rolled a tight, hard nipple between his fingers, teasing the fingers of his free hand down his belly, dipping one finger into his belly-button, feeling the tingling in his stomach at the combined actions.

A finger slowly slid down his already aching erection, making him moan Cedric's name, as he imagined the brunette being the one who did this to him instead of himself. The fingers that had been busy with his nipple just a moment ago were moved, and he slipped one inside of himself, arching his back and cocking his finger as he found the spot he was looking for.

Cedric's name spilled from his lips again, and his eyes snapped open when a soft moan washed from just inside the bathroom and over to him from the general direction of the door.

Please by all that was good and just let Cedric suffer from part-time deafness. Please let him not have heard…

"Harry? What did you just say?" Cedric asked, eyes riveted to Harry's crotch and to the place on his back where Harry's other arm came out of view, figuring out quite easily - if Harry should judge from the look in his eyes – where his other hand was occupied. The growing bulge in his pants were unmistakable and Cedric REALLY hoped that Harry had said what Cedric thought he'd said, because explaining to Harry why he was tenting his trousers at the sight of him without Harry wanting him back – Merlin; Cedric didn't even know if Harry was queer, and now he was considering if Harry wanted him? This could turn out pretty awkward.

"Uhm… I guess I did?" Harry said, hesitantly – it wouldn't hurt to admit it, if he should judge from the – quite impressive – bulge in Cedric's trousers.

"Uh… Do you want to come in?" he asked, feeling bold without no particular reason to do so.

"Yeah, sure, I guess…" Cedric said, trying to shake the feeling of awkwardness off him, suddenly feeling that no matter if Harry rejected him, it wouldn't mean the world. There was a living wet dream sitting in a giant bath-tub about 3 meters away from him, inviting him in. This really wasn't the moment for awkwardness.

He shrugged out of his shirt and trousers rapidly, almost forgetting his tie until it caught in his shirt. He frowned and ripped that off too, now only in his boxer-briefs, he eagerly slipped out of them too and slid into the tub rapidly. Feeling his breath catch as he slid into the water and got a better look at Harry, the younger boy licked his lips and started exploring his body with his eyes as his hands started moving again.

Cedric couldn't control himself any longer; he started stroking himself, his breath catching as Harry's eyes were glued to his hand, humming softly in pleasure without really knowing.

"Cedric… I've been imagining this for so long…" Harry moaned needily. "You're so hot, Cedric, so hot." He kept on, adding a third finger to the two that were already penetrating him.

"Want you so bad, so much." He ground out, not even knowing what he was saying anymore – his own fingers were driving him crazy with need, and he had Cedric Diggory – one of the hottest guys on the school – in front of him, wanting him.

"Please Cedric, I want you in me." He said, looking at Cedric through half-lidded eyes, somehow afraid of a rejection, somehow not caring at all.

"But…" Cedric muttered huskily, interrupted by Harry who bolted over to him and cut off his protest by pressing his lips against Cedric's, rubbing against him shamelessly – he couldn't help it – he CRAVED body-contact, he needed it, and he wanted it NOW!

"Please don't say no." Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around Cedric's neck, kissing him softly, his tongue asking for entrance as he licked at Cedric's lower lip softly, giving out a small moan of victory when Cedric's lips parted and made room for his tongue.

He slipped it inside rapidly, afraid that Cedric would regret, and he felt Cedric's surprise at the sudden speed of his actions at the way Cedric put his arms around him in an attempt__to regain just a little control. He smirked slightly when Cedric started rubbing back against him, feeling like he'd finally gotten, what he'd wanted for so long.

"So damn pretty, Harry." Cedric growled softly, biting at Harry's lower lip softly before he took over the kiss and slipped his tongue inside his mouth, moaning when the other brunette suckled on his tongue eagerly and moved first to align their cocks, so that the shafts and heads were flush against each other – the next movement were his arm moving around Harry and his fingers moving where Harry's own had just been pre-occupied. He slid two fingers inside him ever so slowly, twisting and flexing them to find Harry's prostate and started pushing him against his climax as Harry wrapped his fingers around both of their cocks, starting to pump them expertly, as he arched and pressed against Cedric.

"Harder." He ordered breathily, loving the feeling of someone stretching him, internally wondering how it could feel so much better to be filled with someone else's fingers than his own.

He gave their members a squeeze and thumbed the heads, rubbing them softly, harder as he chased after his climax, helped by Cedric who had now pushed him against one of the sides of the big tub and was kissing him passionately up his neck.

Harry's mouth formed a surprised 'o', when he felt himself come uncontrollably – sooner than he'd -expected – and thrashed his head backwards and closed his eyes as he came hard.

He came to his senses again a few moments after, almost stiffening again, when he saw Cedric's face – the brunette was a panting mess – Harry had managed to stroke him halfway through his orgasm without knowing, and now he was finishing the job with great enthusiasm. Five minutes after, he placed a chaste kiss at Cedric's lips and left him half-asleep in the tub.

/

**A/N:** What to say… well, Harry's a slut, keep reviewing, a special thanks to grassandsafetypinsandthings, who's_ the only one_ who's reviewed since the last chapter. Thank you, everyone else… well, you suck! It's only readers like grassandsafetypinsandthings who makes us upload, the rest of your are just ungrateful! *scoff*


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